


Bond

by traveler_spawn



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, Mental Link, Minor mention of nudity, Psychological Torture, Shadowkeep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-01-27 11:14:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 14,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21391225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/traveler_spawn/pseuds/traveler_spawn
Summary: The Darkness preys on weaknesses...and it has found how to cripple a Guardian and her Ghost.  (Shadowkeep main story.  COMPLETE.)
Relationships: Female Guardian/Ghost (Destiny)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 37





	1. Endure

For how long she was on the deck of her ship, Selene didn’t remember. She knew she needed to rise, to send in reports to Zavala and Ikora. But as far as she cared, the Vanguard could go fuck themselves for the moment.

**_<<Selene, no.>>_** Ozy’s voice was stronger–his Light a comforting fire within her body. It’s moments like these where Selene wishes she could embrace her Ghost in a hug. But the feel of their entwined Light, his mind against hers, the invisible ties that made them one soul in two bodies–it was good as a hug. Selene shuddered. She felt Ozy do the same, as he remembered the events that had happened on the borders of the Pyramid. 

_Something’s wrong. I feel strange. Like someone -or something- is invading my Light._

Selene had felt it too. A set of fingers-ice cold, trailing down her spine before somehow pushing past her wards, reaching out to curl around the precious threads that connected her and her Ghost. This was different than when she’d lost her Light–she still had her power, but that thing, whatever it was, it had then turned it’s full attention on their bond, just as the Nightmare of Crota had attacked. The entire fight Selene had felt as if something had been trying to chain her in place, and she’d ruthlessly called upon every ounce of her Light–with Ozy pouring all of his into her–to stay free. Had Eris not intervened when she did, the outcome of the battle would have been grim. 

“This is a bad idea.” She murmured.

**_<<This is how horror movies begin.>>_** A faint smile crossed Selene’s face, Ozy had sounded more like his normal self with that remark. 

“Stay in the neural net?” She asked, her voice a whisper. She felt Ozy’s assent–he needed the shared closeness too. Maybe if they were together long enough, the memory of the Darkness-that icy cold that devoured warmth, a horrible pressure threatening to break one’s mind–would go away. 

**_<<I’m not going anywhere. I don’t want to go anywhere. It’s safer here.>>_** Selene closed her eyes, putting a hand to her heart. **_ <<Remember I promised? I’ll stay with you always.>>_**

“I remember.” Selene whispered. “I’m holding you to that promise.”

** _<<I’m holding you to it too.>>_ **


	2. Depths

Something wasn’t right. It’s a feeling in her gut, one that echoes all the way down to her bones. Probably even to the ghost of her original skeleton, which was lost the moment she’d dragged in a shocked breath in her second (undead) life. It’s a sensation that’s whispered after her (one voice among so many) ever since her and Ozy’s first encounter with the Pyramid–or as her Ghost is now calling it, the ‘fucking black triangle of death’. 

However the feeling is now back in full force, it’s a shrill scream along her nerves and in her mind–and she can’t focus on it, not now, not now because oh Light the cold is back, those fingers are back, that pressure is back–

**_<<The Pyramid…my Light–>> _** Ozy’s voice is strained. Selene can’t speak either–the cold is robbing her of the ability to breathe, let alone speak. The wards she’s placed on herself and her Ghost, and the mental shields she’s reinforced–a literal brick wall of Light between everything else and the bond she and Ozy share– _something’s somehow crawling into it, creeping up and over it–_

**_<<–it’s happening again–>> _** Eris hisses a response over the comm, but Selene barely makes it out. With a superhuman effort she shoves at the presence as hard as she can, just as the first Thrall leaps screaming at her, upset at her presence in the summoning ring. Then it’s a repeat of what happened with the Nightmare of Crota, Ozy all but burrowing himself into her very core as he floods her with Light, and Selene just barely able to keep her focus on killing the Hive and shoving back at the presence at the same time. Somehow they pull it off, and the bridge to the other side forms. But every step feels like lead, and Selene’s eyes are crossing from pain/fear/oh Traveler what is this why is it coming after them-it’s not letting up–she feels unclean, unclean– Around her, the red forms of the phantom Guardians loom–before starting to move out of her way as the Warlock continues to advance across the bridge. 

**_<<More…Phantoms. Just like those haunting Eris.>> _** Ozy whispers. His voice is wavering–he’s struggling to stay online–a shock that ices through Selene. **_<<Faceless Guardians…watching us.>>_**

_Ozy!_ The fear and desperation is clear in Selene’s voice, and she feels her Ghost attempt to rally himself–increasing the output of his Light into her and against the **_thing_** that watches them–

** _<<They’re nothing more–than a distraction.>>_ **

She makes it across, and with ice prickling across her skin–oh Traveler it’s _cold_, oh so _**cold**_– she fights off the rest of the Hive protecting the Cryptoglyph. Not even the power of the storm is enough to spark warmth inside her. Even worse, Ozy is barely hanging on–if they don’t escape soon, he’ll go offline and possibly take him with her. With her muscles screaming from exhaustion and her mind reeling, Selene clambers up onto the Cryptoglyph’s platform. The close proximity to the Hive relic makes her want to vomit, but that’s a certain death sentence, she can’t take off her helm. Thankfully the spell to dampen it’s aura is simple enough. With what feels like the last of her strength, Selene reaches out to Ozy and he weakly reaches back, the two of them connecting before the Warlock triggers another spell. The Cryptoglyph vanishes, locked in stasis for the trip out. Selene sways, her knees threatening to give way as Ozy opens the comm channel.

**_<<Eris, we have the Cryptoglyph.>>_** There’s underlying urgency in his voice, despite the strain. **_ <<Teleport us out!>> _**

There is no response-save for a low, ominous rumble. Alarm bells go off in Selene, and she straightens, looking around.

** _<<Eris?! Are you there?!>>_ **

Ahead of the pair, summoning circles suddenly appear in blazes of green fire, and unholy screams can be heard as the entire area begins to shake. Dread-then pure adrenaline floods Selene as she realizes just what’s happened–the entirety of the Catacombs has been alerted to the Cryptoglyph’s theft. The same realization hits Ozy as well, for he cries out only one word.

** _<<Run!>>_ **

And Selene runs. She wants to stop and pull Ozy to safety-he’s become her flashlight once again, illuminating her path as the Warlock runs and Blinks across the bridge. But there is no time-she’d be alone in the dark with all of the Hive upon her, no chance to summon a ball of Arc Light to replace her Ghost’s illumination. She can only run and Blink, run and Blink–Ozy somehow, somehow keeping up with her frightened pace. The further up they run, the more the cold starts to recede–those fingers suddenly releasing her and her Ghost, the presence vanishing almost like a bad dream–or one of them anyroad, the Moon is nothing**_ but_** bad dreams at this point. 

It is with a scream she bursts out into the Circle of Bones, her legs giving out. Selene collapses onto the ground on all fours, shaking and sobbing. Her armor is ripped and torn in many places–from the Hive swiping at her or trying to grab her whenever they were in range. Relief floods her–not just hers, Ozy’s as well, they’re safe, they’re together, it’s warm…

Then anger replaces the relief, why hadn’t Eris teleported them out? Had she left them alone to the Hive’s mercies? Selene tries to gather her wits to activate her comm, but then–

_…Guardian? _ Eris’s small whisper is a bombshell. There is pure fear in the other woman’s voice. It is enough to diffuse Selene’s own rage, and she slumps to the ground as Ozy speaks back.

**_<<We’re here. Cryptoglyph and all.>>_** Exhaustion is in every word her Ghost speaks. 

_I’d thought you’d…I’m sorry. The immense darkness of the Pyramid kept me from you._ Selene watches as Ozy floats down alongside her on the ground. Eris is speaking again but she doesn’t care right now, her eyes are only for her Ghost. Ozy is shivering. Selene reaches out to gently take him by the shell. Pulling him close to her chest, the hum of his tiny core is a balm to her shattered nerves. She knows her heartbeat is doing the same for him, for she feels the tension bleed out of his frame. They should be getting up, they should be moving, for they’re still in enemy territory, but right now, they just don’t have the strength. As Eris begins to trigger the long-awaited teleportation spell, Selene curls up into a fetal position, still holding Ozy close to her heart. 


	3. Safety

Inside of Selene’s ship, Ozy feels every single part of him relax. _The Moonlight Densetsu _carries the distinction of not only being Selene’s personal craft, but bristles with enough wards against the Darkness (and more mundane threats) that Amanda threatened to banish Selene from parking in the Hanger until she toned down the security.

Naturally Selene obeyed. There are two major rules of the Tower that are always obeyed–do whatever Amanda tells you, and never piss off Banshee (and Ada-1 but then honestly she’s always pissed off-). But whenever they’re on duty, Selene activates all the wards, and more often than not, _Moonlight’_s been a safe haven of Light for the pair in many Darkness infested zones. And on the Moon, Ozy can’t think of any safer place to be. The shower is running–his Guardian needing to to somehow get the taint of the Hive, the Pyramid-and that…thing away from her. Her clothes she’d burned–ripping them off her skin the moment the shuttle’s hatch sealed behind them. Eris has the Cryptoglyph, and for the moment it seems the pair have some peace. For his part, Ozy sags.

_What was that?_ He’s no stranger to possession–first the whole mess with Sagria and Osiris, then that incident with Rasputin. After that, Selene had thrown herself into refining her mental shields—and creating Light spells to protect Ozy. (While continuously muttering dark Old Russian curses on Rasputin’s programming). Their bond is…well, one that the Ghost, nor his Guardian, can explain. No Guardian/Ghost pair can. How can you put into words something that is…almost holy? He knows Selene in ways that no lover she takes will ever learn, and she knows him better than…it sounds possibly blasphemous, but possibly better than the Traveler. He has been her heart, her breath when she’s been badly hurt and past the limits of what he could heal—when only a quick death can allow him to bring her back hale and whole. She has been his Light—those horrid days when the Traveler had been caged and they’d struggled to survive, it was Selene who had whispered of hope to his battered audios. He had been her anchor when she had unleashed her grief-stricken wrath on the Scorned Barons and ultimately Uldren. They had leaned on each other for support navigating the Drifter’s machinations—and trying to puzzle out Shin Malphur’s wishes. They both had personally wanted to…well, Selene had wanted to shock Ada-1, Ozy had just wanted to bash the bitchy Exo upside the head with his shell—while they found and made safe the forges of the Black Armory. There is no Ozy without Selene, and there is no Selene without Ozy. It is their thing, almost a set law of the universe. 

So to have something—that **_thing_**—slink into their shared bond– If he could vomit, Ozy knows he would be doing so. The memory is enough to make him shudder with revulsion. For comfort he flies to his setup in the sleeping-quarters of _Moonlight_—a old fashioned wicket basket heaped with soft small pillows and scarves. Tucked among them is a rosary, blessed with the Light and the prayers of the Speaker-or rather a pair of them, gifted to both the Ghost and his Guardian. Ozy carefully loops the beads of his own around the triangles of his shell, then picks up Selene’s own. The shower has ended, and he flies into the bathroom. Selene is drying herself off—her color’s back at least, the Ghost notes with relief. There’s no shame between them (that died a fast death back in her early days in the City). Her body is lean muscle—and automatically, the Ghost triggers his scans. His Risen could do with more vitamins, and she’s dropped a few pounds from when they first came to the Moon. Scars litter her upper shoulders and a calf—injuries from a strike some weeks before. The next time she dies and he brings her back, her skin will be unmarked. As Ozy continues to check her over, Selene finishes drying herself off. She takes the other rosary from Ozy, putting it over her neck. Then she pulls on a pair of clean panties before padding out of the bathroom and over to the bed. As she crawls in beneath the covers, Ozy floats next to her. 

“Drink this.” He orders. He transmats a bottle onto the shelf next to Selene’s head—a bottle of liquid vitamins. Selene glances at it briefly, curling up beneath the sheet and comforter.

“That tastes like chalk.” She says.

“Complaint noted and logged in my ‘I give no fucks’ file.” Ozy retorted. He doesn’t miss the ripple of relief that courses through Selene, and she reaches out a hand towards him.

“You must be feeling better if you’re cursing.” She murmurs. 

‘Better than how I was. “ Ozy reassures her. He lowers himself so he can rest on the bed facing her. Selene bites her lower lip.

“…Those were my most powerful wards, Ozy.” She whispers. “I don’t understand. They shouldn’t have failed.” Her fingers close around Ozy’s shell, and the Ghost hums in bliss at her gentle caress. “Are you certain you’re feeling better?”

“The further we got away from the fucking triangle of death, the better I felt.” Ozy wriggles so he can better look at Selene with his eye. He can feel a hum of activity through their bond, Selene’s brain is gnawing at the problem before them. But she’s tired—the adrenaline crash had hit shortly after they’d cleared the catacombs.

“You need to sleep.” He says. 

“I can’t.” Selene whispers. “I-I have to figure this out. You know Eris will want us to go back-and into that pyramid.” Ozy doesn’t answer, he knows she’s right. “I can’t fight with that…thing…on me. On us. Third time around one of us may make a mistake and then we end up in the hands of the Hive.” She shudders. There will be no quick death if that happens. If Hashaldun was any indication, the Guardians are facing off against more of Crota’s brood. And for the woman who cut a path of death through the Osmium Dynasty, even felling Oryx himself… A chill snaked through Ozy’s core. 

“Maybe…maybe the armor Eris wants to make for us will help?” He offers. Selene frowns. “Think about it. We only have one piece, but you did a really good job layering the spells so that the Hive and Nightmare energy didn’t affect us too badly. If we have the whole set, you can do the same thing.”

“Maybe.” Selene muses. Her finger gently traces a tip of the Ghost’s shell, and Ozy wants to purr. “Also, it could be how I create the shields.” Her eyes are drooping, and Ozy scoots in closer to her.

“Please, you need to rest.” Before Selene can argue, Ozy settles himself so that he can press against her cheek. A sigh escapes Selene, her eyes closing at the sound of Ozy’s tiny core.

“You fight dirty.” She accuses, but her voice is soft. The hum of her Ghost’s electronics is better than any sedative, and all the Warlock wants to do is curl up and sleep for months. Maybe the rest of the year. With a sigh she sits up, reaching for the bottle. 

“You’ve lost weight too.”

“It’s the Moon.” Selene grumbled. She twisted the bottle cap off and puts it to her lips. 

“Even so. Field rations aren’t cutting it, not with the amount of energy you’ve been expending. I’ll send a message to one of the supply ships, see if they can bring some proper food.” His Guardian’s health is something Ozy, like many Ghosts—takes seriously. It’s a point of pride for them. Selene tosses the bottle into the trash, then settles back under the covers. Ozy floats over to a nearby tablet, inputting his request in before floating back over to his Guardian. The _Moonlight_ may bristle with security, but ever since the pair had heard the mutterings of a Phantom Guardian—

_They took our Ghosts while we were sleeping!_

Ozy was now electing to recharge within the safety of his and Selene’s shared neural net. As Selene stretched out, Ozy deactivated the lights. A shimmer of Light and he was reconnected with his Guardian—settling into the neural net. Selene’s mind was starting to go quiet as exhaustion took over, but Ozy could feel a ripple of affection aimed toward him. Responding in kind, the Ghost let the recharge program take over, pressing as close as he could to the brightness that was Selene’s spirit.


	4. Gifts

There was an Old Earth story that Eva had told her once, when Selene had come to her shop. A prince had sought to save a princess from an evil spell laid upon her. But to do this, he had needed the aid of three fairies. They had given him gifts to aid in his quest. Watching Eris work at the Lectern, Selene found herself reminded of the story.

“You will go where none have gone before. Tread carefully.”

**_<<Are we sure she can do this?>>_** Ozy whispered in her thoughts**_. <<Those phantoms…>>_** Selene’s gaze flicked to the red forms of Eris’s fireteam. They were still hovering around Eris, but after another explosion of rage from the woman, had backed off…somewhat.

_Would you like to question her about her ability?_ She thought back. If he was in their neural net, and if she dropped down her own mental shields, Ozy could ‘read’ her mind and ‘speak’ back to her. Ozy immediately flared in a…well, it felt like a ‘hell no!’ 

“The mind might quail, so your heart must prevail.” Eris intoned.

**_<<The mind, the body, and the heart are already quailing.>>_** Ozy muttered.

“Their curses are now your charms. Hold such hatreds close, for they reveal their fears.”

_I’m grateful Zavala isn’t around for this. Or the Speaker._ Selene thought. The armor Eris was crafting was heavily laced with Nightmare energy that Selene had collected—tinged with Eris’ own mastery of Hive magic and the use of the Cryptogylph. It was also made from the scraps of Golden Age spacesuits Selene had scourged up…complete with air unit on the back of the robes.

“And lastly, a shroud of dreams, so that you might see these nightmares with open eyes.”

** _<<That doesn’t look like any normal helmet to me.>>_ **

_I think that’s the point._ Selene remained where she was, waiting for Eris to finish muttering her incantations. _If you wanted to really look at it, it kinda looks like something you’d see in a book about the shamans of Old Earth_.

**_<<We’re going to look like a serial killer.>>_** Selene choked at the comment, turning a desperate laugh into a wheeze. Thankfully, Eris hadn’t noticed.

_Ozy!_

**_<<We’re going to look like a serial killer from those Golden Age horror movies.>>_** Pulling her attention away from her Ghost, Selene focused on Eris, who was gesturing her to come over.

“It is done. However, you will have to do what you did before with your bond. I know…these magics can be uncomfortable for you.” She said, turning back to the Lectern. A pair of boots, robes, helm, and gloves were waiting. Selene hesitated, and Eris turned to face the younger Guardian.

“What is it? You pause.”

“…Is there anything you can do to give my Ghost some protection?” The question took Eris aback, and her hands went to her orb. Selene watched as the ex-Hunter muttered to herself, shooting a dark glance at one of the phantoms haunting her. 

“It would require research, but that is time we do not have.” She said. “Were you not working on your own means of protection?”

“Yes, but I thought maybe there was something that you could…” Selene trailed off. Eris shook her head.

“Short of completely destroying the natural barriers that keep you two as separate entities, there is nothing I can do for the moment.” Eris paused. “There should be excess energy still on the armor—perhaps you can weave that around a shield of Light for him.” Selene exhaled, nodding.

**_<<I think between that getup and your new wards, I should be alright.>>_** Ozy said**_. <<I mean, you figured out that the Pyramid’s basically being sneaky, and you had set your shields up for a more direct attack.>>_** Selene moved past Eris, starting to gather up the armor pieces. At this close range she could hear the dark hissing of the specters that hung about the ex-Guardian…and so could Ozy. The Ghost went silent, all but burrowing into Selene as the Warlock felt her stomach twist.

“Thank you for the armor, Eris.” She said, proud of herself for keeping her voice steady. Eris made a shooing motion.

“Go now and rest. You will need to call upon every ounce of strength you have for this.” She said. A chill came over Selene at those words, and her head snapped toward Eris—who was walking away, phantoms in tow.

** _<<…Selene? Is everything alright?>>_ **

_…Yes. Sorry. Let’s get back to the ship. _Ozy sent assent through their bond, and Selene turned away from the Lectern. But the chill remained, and she couldn’t shake it for quite some time.


	5. Harm/Heal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In Joker’s Wild, Aunor reports/confirms that Ghosts can be separated from their Guardians and reprogrammed. I figured it wasn’t too much of a stretch that the Praxic Order has a facility that does the work (as they’re the ones who created the Ghost-restraint bond) and also it’s probably a given that the Vanguard knows. I took a liberty of assuming that the Speaker probably wasn’t aware of this.

* * *

The facility is subterranean, deep within the wall of the last Tower. The activity thankfully has died down—and given her newly-healing relationship with her Ghost, Ikora doesn’t really want to think about what’s been done here. The Speaker, now RTL, never knew—and the Warlock Vanguard knew that if the aged Warlock had any idea of what the Praxic Order and the Vanguard had been up to, hell would have broken loose. 

“Scans completing.” Aunor’s voice is hushed. Ikora wasn’t surprised that she’d volunteered—the impromptu mission had been delicate. Incapacitate Selene and Ozy and bring them to the hidden Praxic labs. Upon their return from Luna and debriefing, the pair had been immediately sent to the healing-halls beneath the Traveler. But soon a report from a doctor had arrived at the new Tower. Selene was barely eating or sleeping. When she did, she’d wake up screaming—bloodcurdling cries as if she were being murdered. At first the diagnosis was PTSD—something that Selene did have (quite frankly almost every Guardian did), but then it had been noted that something was wrong with _**Ozy**_. He wasn’t speaking, his own stress levels were as high as Selene’s, and the pair were often found curled up into a corner or the bed, Selene clutching Ozy to her breast as if he were a lifeline, the pair trembling as if they were expecting an attack. That was when Ikora knew something had gone _horribly _wrong.

“Bringing up neural net now.” Aunor types in a command on the console. Ikora inhales deeply, steadying herself. Her ex-student and Ghost aren’t aware, but they’ve been to the facility once before. When it had been discovered that the newly resurrected Guardian and her Ghost had the neural net of a 5-year old pair—instead of a two-week-old– the Praxic Order had sedated them both one night for an exam on the Vanguard’s orders. Not only did Selene and Ozy have that odd neural net, but the connections, when visualized, resembled a horrific nightmare of a messy ball of string. There seemed to be no beginning or end, no way to clearly define or find the barriers that kept Ghost and Guardian as two separate entities. The only conclusion that had been reached was that simply based on the neural net alone—if something happened to Ozy, Selene would also be affected—and vice versa. 

And it was that same conclusion that was beginning to materialize on the holopad. Ikora’s eyes widened, shock lancing though her. Off to the side she heard Zavala gasp—and mentally, a wave of horror from Ophiuchus.

_ What…what…_  
  
“What…is…that?” Zavala gets out. It’s credit to his composure that his voice remains steady. On the holopad, the messy string-ball that is Selene and Ozy’s bond is clearly seen—Ikora notes that it’s larger now than from the last time she saw it. A normal bond between pairs is a healthy light blue and radiates Light even through the scan. But this time barely any Light can be felt, and every twist, kink, and strand of the bond has jagged streaks of black within. 

“It’s damage.” Aunor whispers. “Something…something got inside and damaged their connection.” Her eyes are wide, and Bahaghari has fled to the comfort of the spot between her Guardian’s neck and shoulder. 

“Is this recent?” Ikora bites out.

“Yes.” Aunor answers. She fists her fingers to steady them before she resumes typing. Another screen pops up. “Estimated timeframe…has this with them when they returned from Luna.”

“That can’t be possible.” Zavala states. “Ikora-no, all of us. We know how to defend our connections!” Titans and Hunters learn how to construct and refine basic shielding for the links between themselves and their Ghosts, but Warlocks are the ones who are considered masters of the art. Ikora knows Selene’s own mental wards are powerful, strong enough even to protect her and Ozy from the insidious corruption of the Hive for at least a few hours –given some of their past missions. 

“…The doctor said she screamed about something inside her.” Ikora forces the words out. Horror fills her as her mind is quick to figure out just how Selene would have felt—and sheer, white-hot rage is on its heels. “Cold fingers, the flat of a knife being pressed against her and Ozy’s connection. Ozy said something was holding him in place—making him watch Selene fight against the Nightmares, making him feel her suffering.”

“Traveler.” Aunor whispers, shaken. Ikora can feel Zavala vibrating in fury next to her, the Titan Vanguard clenching a fist. His Ghost has burrowed into his shoulder, and he lifts his free hand to rest it atop its’ shell.

“Can anything be done to help them?” He asks, his voice tight and clipped. Aunor turns her gaze back to the console and hologram, typing.

“I-I don’t know. We’d need another set of eyes-”

“No.” Ikora says. “This can’t get out. It’ll create a panic.” She fixes Aunor with a dark glower as she says this, and the Praxic warlock has the grace to flush in embarrassment.

“It…could be that maybe they’re still picking up on the energy of that pyramid.” She says, looking at the monitor. “Ikora, you said you can still feel it from here, correct?”

“I can, yes. And I’m not the only one. Other senior Warlocks as well.” Ikora looks to Zavala, who nods.

“Same for us.” Aunor bites her lower lip.

“…There might be a way to help them.” She says. “But it’d involve giving them the second part of the drug.”

“The blocker?” Ikora asks, shock in her voice. There are two components to the drug that the Praxics have perfected for this type of work. The first is the sedative, the second is the blocker—completely nullifying the Light of a Guardian for a brief time so that the Ghost can be separated from them.

“Modified!” Aunor says quickly, holding up her hands. “Modified. They need the Light, no question. But none of the instruments have picked up any taint of any sort—but I think the problem is that they’re picking up on the Pyramid’s energies. Selene’s on fumes, Ozymandias is probably suffering some system damage that needs maintenance—and the only way they’re going to recover is if we…” She gestures. “Shut off Selene’s mind-block her-from any energy, anything-and put Ozymandias in stasis. That should allow them both enough rest for the healing process on both their ends to begin—and Light only knows, they’ll probably get some semblance of sanity back.”

Aunor’s theory was correct. Cut off and isolated, Selene and Ozy almost immediately began to improve. For Ozy, it was discovered he had corrupted files—a problem that thankfully was a quick fix. Uninterrupted sleep for Selene showed her body starting to repair itself—and away from the Darkness’s reach, the neural net between the pair began to heal. Two days in Aunor deemed it safe to move Selene to a Praxic healing ward beneath the Traveler, and to begin the process of the drug’s removal from her system. Back under the god-orb’s Light, and once Selene’s body held no trace of its pharmaceutical hostage-taker, the pair’s own Light began to recharge at a frightening speed. 

The third day saw Selene and Ozy’s neural net practically pristine—as if it had never been hurt. Then a report—Selene had awakened. The warlock had just enough power to stagger to the bathroom and then back to bed, sleeping for another several hours. Wanting to be present when Selene awoke, Ikora returned to the hospital room, intending to ward it against the Pyramid’s energy. The power of the Darkness was a weak thread directly under the Traveler, but Ikora wanted to take no chances. Her spirits lifted when she found Ozy snuggled next to Selene’s cheek in recharge. Their Light was brighter, and a flush of health finally colored Selene’s skin. 

_Thank the Traveler. _Ikora sank into the chair next to Selene’s bed, relief washing over her. Unable to help herself, she reached out—fingers gently tracing the curve of one of the younger woman’s cheeks.

“What happened up there?” She whispered. Selene’s reports had been brief and to the point, but it was details Ikora needed now. She needed to know the entire story, as horrible and sordid as it was. She needed knowledge so she could plan and fight back, to atone for failing her former pupil, her friend. Ever since Cayde’s death Ikora knew that she’d been out of balance, and she’d let things fall to the wayside that she shouldn’t have. Beneath her fingertips Selene mumbles, and she burrows more into the bedcovers. Ozy grumbles as well, snuggling even closer to his Guardian. 


	6. Witness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ligera is Spanish–via google- for Light. Considering Zavala’s Ghost isn’t offically named yet, figured that was a good workaround for now. Also something I noted–the Pyramid doesn’t turn into a Darkness Zone with a no-rez debuff until we fight the first Nightmare. And when you really think about it…what would have happened had we died in there, with no Ghost to rez us?
> 
> Food for thought! Also pardon creative liberty taken. Also for the Google Russian ‘do you hear me’.

* * *

It is Ophiuchus’s idea, separating them. Ikora and Zavala stay with Selene, while their Ghosts escort Ozy away. Ikora sees the panic begin to rise in Selene, and she reaches out to cover the younger warlock’s trembling hands.

“He’s not going far. See?” She points, and Selene turns her head. A partial glass panel separates the hospital room Selene is in from the other, and the Ghost trio can be seen. Relief makes Selene shudder, and she closes her eyes.

“Sorry…I’m sorry.” She whispers.

“No.” Ikora glances towards the doctor, who’s frowning. More rest and recovery has been deemed for Selene, but the Vanguard need answers. If Selene of all Guardians—the Traveler’s favored, can be brought low like this—then the situation is far more dire than they ever dared dream. Ikora needs answers so she can figure out a way to help her friend, her former student. Zavala needs answers so he can start planning, or at least attempt to plan, a defense. The Vanguard Titan reaches out—resting a hand atop one of Selene’s trembling ones. The action makes Selene’s head jerk up, and she stares at Zavala. Their relationship still has been strained since her actions at the Tangled Shore. The Titan ignores the current oddity of his gesture, speaking gently.

“Tell us everything.” He says. Selene stares at him for several moments, and then looks down at his hand covering hers. She swallows.

“I’d had a feeling ever since we first landed on Luna…”

“She couldn’t figure out what it was.” Ozy’s voice is quiet. Ophiuchus and Ligera watch him. “I couldn’t figure it out either and it was gnawing at the both of us. Something was wrong someplace, but just…” One of his fins twitched. “We couldn’t place it. Gave up eventually, because the entire Moon’s just all over wrong now. For all we knew, she was probably picking up on the Nightmares and…that thing.”

“A reasonable conclusion.” Ophiuchus says. Ozy looks at him.

“She got some rest before heading back beneath the surface. She’d expended a lot of energy adjusting the energy of the armor Eris made her so it wouldn’t negatively impact us, not to mention creating and reinforcing the new wards she made to protect us. And before we left…”

“He told me that if something…did end up happening to him, I had to keep going.” Selene swallowed. “I thought he was afraid, I couldn’t blame him—I told him I’d make sure the wards didn’t fail, but he wouldn’t let up on it until I promised.”

“Everything seemed…well, normal. As normal as you could get walking into a horror movie and heading straight for the haunted house of death and doom.” Ophiuchus shared a glance with Ligera. If Ozy was making snide remarks, it was a good sign.

“There’s an open area where…you can see the Earth.” Selene said. “There’s a cliff overhang in front, just…crawling with Phantoms. Continue forward, and you drop back down onto the path that continues to the Pyramid.” She inhaled, her fingers clenching at the bedsheet. “I’d…not even taken a step towards the cliff when…it came back.”

“It just was suddenly there.” Ozy’s voice is trembling. “Like it was standing next to me. I told Selene, ‘it’s happening again’ and then it just…hit us, full force. Like you’d drop a full container from high up on the crane.”

“He said ‘it’s reaching inside me’. I couldn’t respond, it was doing the same thing.” Selene’s skin was pale. “My wards were just—_gone_. _Erased_. Like they’d never **existed**. Those fingers were around me-him…**_us_**. And it felt like something was on my shoulders-a foot, trying to push me down into the dirt, deep into the ground. And then those fingers…started…” She swallowed. “They started to pull at Ozy.”

“She got angry.” Ozy whispered. “Angrier than even when…Cayde died. Her Light just…went full forest-fire, and she screamed. And it worked—it pushed that thing back, it pushed it away. But her shields for her mind, for us—they were _gone_. Like they’d never existed.” 

“I started running.” Selene exhaled. “It was gone, I could breathe, but I didn’t know if it was going to come back. So I started to run. Get in, get out, get away. I got to the next cliff, and then Ozy said…

“I said; ‘The Pyramid is waiting.’

“I stopped at that.” Selene inhaled, looking down at her hands. “I stopped, because that feeling that was lurking at the back of my mind–it came screaming to the forefront. Something…something was _wrong_. I almost had Ozy pop out–but with that thing still lurking around, I was afraid to do so.” She closed her eyes. “So I kept going…and the cold came back. It was the first time we’d seen the Pyramid all over again–only I couldn’t spare the Light to fight it off and fight the Hive at the same time. By the time we got to the barrier and passed through it, I could barely breathe for how cold I felt. And Ozy…”

“It wanted us to come closer.” Ozy whispered. “The closer we were getting, the colder it got. Those fingers were around us again, and that presence was just looming. Then…” He trailed off.

“Then what?” Ligera asked gently.

“…I spoke. I felt-felt like I had to say something.” The Ghost shivered. “I said, ‘It beckons us to come closer.”.

“Beckons?” Ophiuchus repeated. Alarm was flaring in his core–oh, it didn’t take a genius to realize what had happened. It was a moot point in their current situation, but… 

“I kept going.” Selene whispered. “Around a corner, towards another ledge. I jumped down and then suddenly…” A shudder wracked her body, and she sucked in a breath. “Ozy…Ozy wasn’t **_there anymore.”  
_**

  
“Those fingers grabbed me.” Ozy whimpered. “Before I could do anything–I couldn’t move. They held me in place, and just…this wall of ice _blocked_ me from Selene. I could feel her Light, I could hear her–I could monitor her life-signs, her body–but I couldn’t _do anything_ to help her. **_I couldn’t heal her, I couldn’t give her Light, I couldn’t do anything_**!”

“Traveler.” Ophiuchus whispered, horror unfurling in his core. Beside him, Ligera twitched in anxiety.

“And then…and then…” Ozy’s voice was staticky. “I heard myself speaking. But it wasn’t me. That thing was inside me. It got into my programming. Selene was panicking–but she couldn’t do anything, the Pyramid was pulling us inside. I heard her scream for me, but I couldn’t–I couldn’t say anything back!”

**Violence. Beauty. Truth. These things await inside. There’s no turning back now.**

  
“…It wasn’t him.” Tears dripped onto the bedsheet covering Selene’s lap. “It wasn’t Ozy. It didn’t even sound like him anymore.”

  
  
**Welcome. We’ve been waiting.**

“It was a trap. It was a trap, and I realized it too late.” Selene shakily wiped at her eyes, but the tears continued to fall. “That thing-it was _inside_ me. _Inside_ my mind, _inside_ our neural net. I felt unclean. I wanted to vomit, I wanted to scream, I wanted to run away. But I couldn’t get out and…and…” She hiccuped. “I’d promised….I’‘d promised Ozy.”

** _GIVE ME BACK MY GHOST, YOU FUCKING BASTARD! Ty menya slyshish!_ **

“I still had my connection to the Light. But I was in trouble.”

“I couldn’t provide her the backup magazines she carried for her guns.” Ozy continued. “She keeps some on her person, but…” He gestured with a fin. Ophiuchus and Ligera understood. It was faster and sometimes more efficient for Ghosts to create/trasmat ammo on the fly in a fight. “And right when she encountered the Nightmare of Gaul, the Darkness manifested and she…I…” He trailed off, a staticky sob escaping his vocalizer. “Then this horrible voice–it whispered to me.”

_If she dies here, she’s mine._

  
“I ended up using too much of the ammunition I had to fight off the Nightmare of Gaul and the Warbeasts that were with him.” Ikora wanted to reach out and hug Selene, to erase the bleak look that was on the young Warlock’s face. “I used too much Light with the Nightmare of the Fanatic.”

  
“I could feel her pain. I could feel her suffering. I knew every time the Darkness used me to speak to her–those horrible words, they were cutting into her like knives.” Despair roiled off and around Ozy. “And it was enjoying it. I just knew–I knew, I could feel…it enjoyed her suffering, her anguish, her pain. It was enjoying my suffering and pain as well.”  
  
  
  
“…I barely remember getting past the Nightmare of Crota.” A bitter laugh escaped Selene. “I remember just one thing–thanking the Traveler for those **fucking** Swords. If they hadn’t been around, I would have been dead. And I…I didn’t want to die there. I knew, I _**knew **_if I died there–the Darkness would take me.”

“It would take you?” Zavala repeated. Selene turned her head to gaze at the Titan Vanguard.

“If I died, it would have been my Final Death.” She said. The surety of her tone sent chills through Ikora, and Selene looked back at her hands. She trembled.

  
“…It was horrible.” Ozy’s voice was raspy, his eye staring blankly ahead. “…It…it looked like her. Walked like her. It was dressed like her. Everything…everything about it was her…but it wasn’t.” His voice cracked. “It was a perversion. A mockery. And I could feel Selene–she was frightened beyond belief. She was so terrified…and so_ brave_. She almost didn’t have anything left but she was standing there, ready to fight if she had to.”

“The Darkness took Selene’s form?” Ligera asked, shock in her voice.

“It was nothing but malice.” Ozy continued. “You could hear it when it spoke. It was cruel, sadistic. It enjoyed her fear. It thought it was funny how she was standing up to it.” He trembled, lost in the memory. 

**Don’t you recognize us?**

“It wanted her.” Ozy whispered. “I-I could feel it. It **_wanted_** Selene. It wanted to _take_ her. Take her Light. Break her. Hurt her.” Fear, hurt, anger, shame–Ozy found he couldn’t speak anymore, he didn’t want to speak–those memories were coming back, that ice cold, the fingers pinning him in place, poking at him and her–the edge of the knife pressed against their shared Light, one slip and the most precious thing in the world to him would be gone, _**gone**_-

With an unearthly scream, the Ghost bolted from the room. Blindly, he transmated to the one safe place–Selene’s arms. He could feel pain-roiling emotion from his Risen, the same emotions boiling up inside her. There was a commotion around them, but Ozy didn’t care. He needed Selene–and from her sobs and the pulse of her spirit, she needed him too. 

**We are not your friend.**

**  
We are not your enemy.**

**  
** **We are your…salvation. **


	7. Chosen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Darkness, and its view on one particular Guardian...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [My attempt at writing the POV of the Darkness.]

————

The Hive will not have the pleasure of killing her. The Darkness has already decided this. Let the Hive and the Vex have the other creations of its counterpart. This one, **_this_** Guardian, it has marked and chosen. It already has plans on how it will reach out to her, since well…the preferred method would probably be met with violence.

_How easy it was, to slip into their bond? A tangle of string for something so precious, so delicate, a life wrapped around its knife? One cut and the gardener would have lost its most powerful creation—_

She is not the only Guardian, there have been so many. The Darkness has had time to watch, learn, mediate. There have been so many with that name that have come, that have fallen. Even more have their flaws exposed for the imperfections, revealed to be the weeds that they are—a mess that needs fixing, a sickness that needs purging. 

But _her_.

She is beautiful. 

For a weed.

But she is beautiful anyway.

_Does it know that it’s created such beauty? No, it surely does not. A means to an end, she is._

The fact that Selene has left the Moon does not bother the Darkness. It knows where she is. Has known where she is, where she goes for a very long time now…though these specifics, this desire, is brand new. 

_Amusing, amusing to reach out-gardener, aren’t you going to do anything? Your most powerful creation needs your help-she’s losing her mind, can’t you see? Or do you refuse to see? With a curl of my fingers I am back inside her thoughts–oh. Wait._

Now it could no longer reach out towards Selene. It was being blocked. Darn. Perhaps the gardener had rallied to the defense after all. But no matter. The Darkness knew just what would lure Selene back. Not just her, the other weeds. It had even told her as such.

_“We are your….Salvation.”_

A signal to once-wayward children. It’s the only thing needed, and the Darkness can feel a shift as the Vex of the Sol Divisive respond. Turning its attention away from those now-unfolding plans, it returns to the pleasurable problem of the Guardian. How delicious it would be to lure her away from the gardener, perhaps to even use her as a weapon against it? Calus would be disappointed-he is not going to be the one to see the end of all things. No, it’s fitting that Selene be that sole and final witness.

_It will seduce her with knowledge. Isn’t that what all Warlocks lust after? _

It will give her secrets that the one named Toland can only dream of. It will…well, the Darkness only thinks it’s fair that finally, it can tell its own side of the story. 

_Oh gardener, if you only knew…_

And during the telling, it will begin to plan the final demise of this one Guardian. Even though it’s so tempting to quickly cut-it’s a weed after all, the Darkness feels that care should be taken. For all the trouble Selene’s caused, it’s only again, fair that her death should be…an event.


	8. Purge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A trip to the Cosmodrone is the breaking point needed to for a Guardian and Ghost to start healing...and allows them to make an intervention.

It’d been a request from Banshee that had made them leave the Tower. She and Ozy had been placed on medical leave for three weeks—an edict enforced by both Ikora and Zavala. At first Selene hadn’t had the energy to argue. The first two weeks had mostly seen her in bed, only moving for food, the bathroom, and the minimum required amount of exercise. The rest of the time she’d been sleeping, Ozy either burrowed into her cheek or a reassuring pulse of Light in their shared neural net.

The third week, it was if a switch had been flipped. The walls of her apartment were too small, she felt as if she were trapped in her own mind. Her doppleganger leered at her in nightmares, and Selene felt herself starting to be afraid of her reflection. She wanted to go down into the City, to get away, but her clearance to do so had been revoked for the duration of the medical leave. Ozy had suggested a walk around the Tower—and then it had been Banshee who’d called them over. Before everything…before the Moon, to be more accurate, Selene had been helping the Gunsmith with the occasional odd job—fine tuning weaponry and the like. Banshee had just finished processing the data from the last assignment he’d given her. 

_“All we need know are some Arc conductors. Take this Ether key. It’s Hunter tech. Was a gift. Should get you to a stash ‘near a gap’ in the old Cosmodrone.” _

She’d recognized it immediately. How could she not? 

_A Jack of Spades?_

_Yeah. I had a whole system to keep track of things. The royal cards stood for weapons. Spades meant Hakke, clubs for Crux/Lomar, diamonds for Omolon and hearts…huh, well hearts were for this girl I knew._

Selene had halfway expected Amanda to refuse her. But surprisingly-the Shipwright hadn’t given her a hard time. Moonlight was refueled and slotted into a takeout berth while Selene had scrambled to change, with a notification sent to the Vanguard that the ship was being given a maintenance overhaul. Within two hours Ghost and Guardian were flying away from the Last City.

_Track down and defeat Fallen Captains. Their Ether profiles will activate the key. And hey… If you see my friend-or his chicken-tell him not to be a stranger._

\---------

  
Of course, the Cosmodrone, being the Cosmodrone, had plenty of Fallen. No sooner had Selene’s boots touched the Old Russian dirt and Moonlight had sped to the relative safety of a low-Earth orbit than Ozy had screamed an alarm.

“There’s a Fallen raiding party!” Selene was quick to react-drawing her rifle, as Light surged in her veins. Ozy fled to the safety of their neural net. The world narrowed to the arid smell of Ether, the snarled curses of the Fallen, and the high-pitched whirrs of a Walker. Soon the Walker was nothing but a smoldering wreck, and the Fallen were retreating. Breathing heavily from the exhortation, Selene shakily undid the clasps of her helm. Pulling it off her head, she heaved in gasps of air. Nearly three weeks sedentary had taken a sharp nip at her fitness. Tilting her head back, she looked up at the sky.

“…It’s blue.” She said, surprise in her voice. Beside her, Ozy had materialized. Hearing Selene speak, he turned to look at her-and then up at the sky.

“It’s springtime.” He replied. Selene blinked owlishly up at the sky. Lowering her head, she looked around her for the first time. Patches of green and gold met her eyes, with scattered clumps of blue flowers. 

“The last time we were here, it was winter.” She murmured. Hesitantly she took one step forward, then another, Ozy at her side. “I…don’t think we’ve ever had a chance to come here in the spring.”

“We never did. Ozy flitted down to examine a flower. “We were always off-planet or when we came here, it was still all ice and cold.” Behind him, Selene removed a gauntlet, kneeling to gently touch a blue petal. It was soft, almost pristine in comparison to the hand that touched it—which was callused, skin cracked from dryness, fingernails ragged and raw. 

“Hi there.” She whispered. Ozy turned around, his eye flicking back and forth. 

“Over there.” Selene turned her head, following his gaze. Some yards away was a battered silver cylinder with green and yellow lights. White Fallen gylphs adorned it. “A Fallen cache—they must have been loading it up.” With a grunt, Selene rose to her feet and headed over to the cache. Kneeling, she waited as Ozy hacked the lock. Fingers wrapping around the handle, she lifted it up, then froze. Feeling shock through their bond, Ozy flew up to her face.

“Selene? What is it? What’s…” The Ghost looked inside the cache-and felt himself freeze up as well. Lying inside the cylinder, matte black, battered but still in one piece…was a Khvostov. Memories suddenly surged in the Ghost’s processor-no, not just him but Selene’s mind as well—

_Sudden illumination, and then bodies-so many of them-crawling and jumping towards her-_

_“They’re coming for us!”_

_A gate rising-creaky and rattling, and leaning against a crate, as if by magic—_

_“Here, I found a rifle! Grab it!”_

Memories tumbling over each other like children’s balls-

_“Every Ghost is born knowing we have to find our Guardian.”_

Tears began to well in Selene’s eyes. Lumps were in her throat, her stomach, everything was finally starting to hit. When had it all started to go wrong? Things had been so much simpler…or had been, at least. The City had been intact, the Speaker had been alive- _Cayde _had been alive..

_“And…thanks. You know. For being my Guardian.”_

“Ozy.” Selene choked. She felt her Ghost fly into her, and she gripped his shell with both hands. The tears were coming faster, like a wound had been lanced and now the toxins were draining. The Ghost looked up at her, his eye flickering.

“…I don’t know what to say.” He warbled. “I…I want to stop hurting. Make you stop hurting. But…” He paused, watching more tears fall from Selene’s eyes. “But we have each other. We always have, and always will. And…remember Io? Remember the Traveler?” 

_Humanity must have protectors… Will you stand with me?_

That odd, almost robotic child-like voice…

_…Even the stars are brighter now…the whole cosmos is ablaze…_

“I don’t know what’s coming next.” Ozy whispered. “And I’m just as scared as you are. But…” He trailed off, and Selene lifted him to her face. “We can do this. We can get through it.” He started to gently pulse Light, and Selene felt her own rise in response. For the first time in a long while, she felt her mind quiet, a measure of peace washing over her. Gently she pressed a kiss to one of Ozy’s fins.

“Thank you for being my Ghost.” She whispered. Ozy chirped at that, his eye shuttering in bliss. Then he lifted himself up from her palms.

“Right then. Let’s…” The terrified scream of a Ghost cut him off. Selene bolted to her feet, looking for the source of the sound—

“Traveler!” Some yards away, a figure was running away from a Fallen Captain and several Vandals, a Ghost flying alongside it. As Selene and Ozy watched, the figure tripped and fell. The Ghost zipped down to help, but the Captain’s sword lashed out-blade meeting fin…

He didn’t know what was going on-everything hurt, everything was loud, he didn’t understand—and that little flying robot—he just knew it was **_important-- _**The newly-Risen grabbed for the Ghost-it had a damaged fin—and over them as he clutched the little drone close, feeling an ache in his bones-his soul—the monster loomed over them both. It spat something, sword rising high…

Then suddenly it wasn’t there. A bolt of blue light-crackling, electrical-lit up the air just above the new Guardian and their Ghost. The first monster vanished-vaporized into thin air and as he watched, the bolt did the same to the other monsters, before it disappeared. The new Risen turned his head, eyes widening behind his helm. A figure stood-no, it hovered. Lighting rippled off it in whips and ribbons, curling around it’s hands, forming a halo around a head of red hair. Another robot like the one he was holding floated over its right shoulder, and the two seemed to glow with some type of internal light. As it drew closer, the new Risen realized it was a woman-dressed in strange clothing. 

**Ty v poryadke? **(Are you alright?) The woman was speaking—and the Risen realized that he could understand her! 

**Oni tebe bol'no? Vash Prizrak, ikh glaz vse yeshche ne povrezhden? **(Did they hurt you? Your Ghost, is their eye still intact?) The new Risen made to respond…but then the stress of everything-the Resurrection, running for their lives-the pain all over his body as Light joined with Light and the neural net of Ghost and Guardian began to form—it all caught up with him. The last thing he remembered was the woman suddenly upon him, her hands on his body as he passed out.


	9. Kinder-Guardian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Selene and Ozy find themselves offering assistance to a newly-Risen Guardian and their Ghost.

She’s been in a situation where a kinder-Guardian was found, but never had Selene had to deal with a literal ‘fresh’ Risen on her own. The past twenty minutes had been a mad scramble; picking up the prone man with Ghost and rushing them to the relative safety of a nearby not-so-ruined building while Ozy called down _Moonlight_. They can’t stay in one place for long, the Fallen will come running the moment they detect her ship. But the possibly-injured Ghost takes priority. Praying to the Light for no Fallen activity, Selene gets the kinder-Guardian into the small room that’s _Moonlight Denetsu_’s medbay, Ozy hot on her heels. There--and it’s a wave of relief that nearly brings her to her knees, the Ghost is fine-just missing a hefty chunk of a fin. It’ll need a new shell, but that’s alright, that’s just fine--  
  


“Selene!” Ozy buzzes, pulling Selene’s attention away from the ‘First-Aid Ghost’ kit that she’d taken out. “I pulled this along with us--look at what else was in that chest!” He spins in a circle as two items transmat in on a nearby table. Selene looks over, and then her breath catches in her throat as she recognizes the items. Kinder-Guardian and Ghost forgotten, she hurries over to the table.  
  


“What in the Traveler?” She breathes. Her hands wrap gently around a Ghost Shell-not just any Shell, it’s the basic white with orange freckles at the cardinal points of the fins--the Generalist Shell. It was what Ozy had been wearing when he’d first found her-and they’d kept it as a memento, until the Red War destroyed those little things that had made up their physical memories.  
  


“Not just that!” Ozy chirps. Selene looks down again. A electronic key-battered but still in good shape--for an Arcadia-class jumpship gleams dully in the small room’s light. The Guardian’s lips part in shock, and she shifts the Ghost Shell to one hand, picking up the key with the other. Her own Arcadia she’d sold in the final processes to get Moonlight.  
  


“Our first ship.” Ozy whispers. “And my first shell...” He floats around Selene, his eye taking in the items. Then a thought occurs to his processor, and he looks at his Risen.  
  


“That new Ghost needs a shell. Give it mine, and put me in this?” His request jars Selene out of a reverie--more memories of the Cosmodrone coming back--and she looks at her other self.  
  


“What?”  
  


“Let me have that shell, and we’ll give that Ghost mine.” He says. “It’ll probably feel better with the reinforcements mine has.” Selene glances at him, then at the unconscious Ghost. A smile crosses her face-and Ozy thrills in joy, it’s the first real smile he’s seen and felt from his Risen since Luna.  
  
  
  


\-------  
  
  
  


Switching the Ghost shell is relatively quick-soon Ozy’s buzzing slightly in irritation, it’s always annoying to program a new Shell--but it’s for a good cause. His Tower Shell is now around the core of the newly-paired Ghost, who is slowly coming online...as is their new Guardian. With a start it practically lurches up into the air.  
  


“Where-where-my Guardian!” Its voice is feminine, and it spins about wobbly. “My Guardian! Where-where are they? And and...” Her eye flickers and she would have fallen onto her Risen’s chest, had it not been Selene’s hand coming out to catch her.  
  


“Easy, easy.” She says. The Ghost whirrs in confusion. Her processor’s trying to adjust to her new shell-a very nice one too--and she’s got the neural net with her Guardian and there’s two Light signatures that...wait a minute. Wait a minute, these readings--every Ghost knows those Light-patterns, how could they not? But before she can react, the man on the bed groans-and the Ghost’s attention flies immediately to him, her Risen, her partner. She lurches out of the palm holding her and onto her Guardian’s chest, ‘eye’ wide, staring at his face.  
  


“Guardian?” She chirps. “Guardian?”  
  
  


There’s something soft yet firm beneath his back. He feels warm-and even though his eyes are closed, he knows he’s someplace that’s lit. With a groan, the newly-Risen opens his eyes-slitted at first. Then as they open fully, he sees that important little robot fly into his view, looking at him with...concern? Concern.  
  


“Guardian? Please, eyes up...” The Risen doesn’t say anything, reaching up to the robot as it floats over his face. Something’s a bit off about it--but he can’t remember just what it was right now, but...  
  


“...Hey.” He whispers. Brown eyes lock into the single blue one, as a gloved hand gently touches one fin. The robot softly ‘cheeps’, floating even closer.   
  


“Hi.” It whispers.  
  


“I...know you.” The man whispers. Nearby, Selene and Ozy are watching-this first intimate moment between Guardian and Ghost--and Selene feels her cheeks starting to grow hot. Ozy for his part, is hunching up his shell in that manner that means embarrassment.  
  


“I think...I’ll just step outside for a moment.” Selene says, quickly excusing herself. The pair don’t respond, and the Warlock stumbles out of the medical bay, putting her hands to her cheeks. Ozy is right behind her, floating at eye-level. Selene inhales-still trying to compose herself.  
  


“Light, I felt almost like a pervert watching that!” She whispers. Ozy looks at her, more memories bubbling up in his processer.

  
  


_ Her eyes were a vivd blue—the color of Arc energy, the Ghost noted. In the cockpit light, her hair was copper-hued, with faint highlights of brown and blond. It tumbled crazily about her head and shoulders. And her Light… It was dazzling, pure in its radiance…_

_  
  
  
_“You’re still as beautiful as the day we found each other.” Selene started, her eyes widening. Ozy watched as her face became even redder.  
  


“Ozy!” She whispered.  
  


“You are.” Ozy replied-just as quiet. “You and your Light.” His back fins twitched as Selene reached up to gently take him in-between her hands. The Warlock smiled softly, her thumbs gently stroking the Ghost’s fins.  
  


“You are me and I am you.” She murmured. Ozy chirped in reply, ‘shuttering’ his eye. He could feel the steady pulse of Selene’s Light and soul that made up her half of their bond. It was a soothing balm to his processor, and the Ghost let himself be submerged in it.  
  


“…**_Efu_**?” (Excuse me?) Selene and Ozy both started, the Risen turning around as the Ghost floated back up into the air. The kinder-Guardian was standing in the doorway, holding his Ghost close against him with a hand.  
  


**_Madha yajri huna?_ ** (What’s going on here?)  
  


“Arabic?” Ozy chirped. The kinder-Guardian blinked at him. He was tall, with rich black hair and brown eyes.   
  


**_Min 'anat? _**(Who are you?)

  
  


\----------------------

  
  
  
“Looks like the Vanguard know that we’re here.” Ozy chirped. “The inbox is full…Ikora and Zavala.”  
  


“I’ll deal with those when we get back to the City.” Selene said, typing in commands into the pilot console. Nearby the kinder-Guardian and his Ghost…or rather, Marwan and Inaam, were safely strapped into the co-pilot’s seat. 

  
“Can you give me a weather forecast?” Selene put her hands on the throttles, feeling the ship's engines rev up.  
  


“Everything’s clear up until about 10 miles out of the City.” Ozy chirped. He was ensconced in a Ghost-sized computer dock that was on the pilot-board. “We should be able to make it in with the jumpship attached if we’re careful.”  
  


“Are you sure that’s wise?” Inaam asked, peering at the two from the safety of her Risen’s hands. Marawn’s thumb was stroking one of her fins, and she wanted very much to just melt into the touch-but no, business! She had to get her Titan to safety and Light, being around **the** Guardian _and_ **her** Ghost—she had to stay professional! It was a point of pride and honor!  
  


“We’re not leaving it behind. And by rights, it belongs to you two.” Selene said. “A Cityhawk’s good for hauling cargo—so don’t worry.” Moonlight’s engines rumbled as the Cityhawk slowly hovered up from its hiding spot. Imaam peered up at Marawn, feeling alarm in her circuits. Her Risen looked rather…green.  
  


“Marawn?”  
  


“…I don’t feel so good.” The new Titan mumbled. Selene’s head snapped around.  
  


“What?”   
  


“I think he’s going to throw up!” Inaam exclaimed.  
  


“Vomiting’s not allowed in the cockpit!” Ozy screeched. “Take it outside!’  
  


“Ozy!” Selene yelled. Marawn gagged, putting a hand to his mouth.  
  


“Hurrghk!”

  
  


\------  
  


“I am so sorry...”  
  


“It’s alright, it’s alright…” Selene grimaced as she wiped up another puddle of bile. Ozy was grumbling darkly from his control panel, having full control over Moonlight’s systems. The Arcadian-class jumpship was secured to the Cityhawk’s belly, and the quartet were finally on their way back to the Last City.  
  


“We’re going to be in extra long quarantine now, yay.” He groused.  
  


“Ozy.” Selene repeated. Marawn groaned, leaning back in his seat as Imaam fluttered around him.   
  


“He doesn’t have any bacteria or viruses…” Light played over the new Risen’s features and form. “And I made sure—he’s got some genetic issues, but the City normally takes care of those right? Right? Right?!"  
  


“He’s airsick, it happens.” Selene said soothingly. The newly bonded Ghost was frazzled-her fins twisting madly as she inspected her new Risen from head to foot for what was possibly the hundredth time. “We’ll just fly slow and steady until we’re almost at the City.”  
  


“Then what?” Marawn asked, wearily looking at Selene.  
  


“Then we’ll just drug you.” Selene answered. Imaam nearly fell out of the air in shock.   
  


“Excuse me?!” She screeched, her voice hitting a high pitch that Selene swore made her ears ring.  
  


“A sedative.” She explained as Ozy spun around in his little dock to glare at the other Ghost. “It’ll relax him enough so that he’ll not have any issues going through the storm.”   
  


“Sleeping sounds nice.” Marawn whispered. Immediately Imaam turned her attentions back to him, floating down as he reached out for her. “Can I go to sleep now?”  
  


“I don’t see why not. You need it.” Selene answered. The kinder-Guardian gave her a tired smile, his eyes drooping. The stress of the day, first Resurrection, the still-forming neural net, and his own nascent bond with his Ghost…along with the stress of flying, was taking a toll. He watched as Selene finished cleaning up the mess, breaking the seal on a sanitizer pouch to wash her hands.  
  


“…Thank you.” He mumbled. The Warlock blinked, looking at him. “Thank you for saving me…us…” It was getting harder and harder to keep his eyes open. Though a slitted gaze, he watched as Selene moved-taking out something from beneath the pilot’s seat and unfolding it-a blanket. Imaam too was starting to doze off, chirping softly as Selene covered both her and her Risen with the soft material. That done, Selene put the tip of her index finger to the man’s head.  
  


“Sleep.” She said softly-but her voice was a command in and of itself, filled with Light. Marawm mumbled, obeying-but not before lifting Imaam so she could rest on the crook of his shoulder, mumbling. Behind the trio, Ozy activated the communications channel.  
  


“Vanguard, this is _Moonlight Denetsu_.” He chirped. “We are a Code Hatched with extra aerial and are Orange. ETA forty-five minutes.” 


	10. The Wager

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last transmission of the Darkness to it's chosen prey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This...got...weird. Upped the warning. Pulled also directly from the Unveiling loretab, The Wager
> 
> \------------------

This is the tenth transmission. Eris watches as Selene warily approaches the table, the Hunter just barely curbing her impatience. She wants to snap at the Guardian to get on with it, to see what this message contains. Nine weeks the Artifact has offered up the words of the Darkness. Nine times they’ve been addressed directly to Selene—with Eris listening in. But Eris bites her tongue against the sharp words that she wants to hurl. For Selene has far too much on her plate—and it would be ungrateful of Eris to make such selfish demands. Nine-no, ten weeks now, the Guardian and her fireteam have fought the Sol Divisive in the Garden of Salvation—another portion of the Black Garden’s overall whole. Ten weeks Eris has seen Selene pale, staggering sometimes, armor dyed red with her blood to her ship, to safety for her and her Ghost. 

She remembers also, when Selene had emerged from the depths of Luna, Artifact in hand. The younger Guardian had been in the throes of a full-fledged panic attack, hyperventilating. She’d nearly ripped off her helm (and would have died from lack of air) had it not been for two members of her immediate fireteam. Her Light had been sparking out of control, erratic—and spiked with thick lines of Darkness. Later, Ikora had contacted Eris for more information and had also told her of the damage both Guardian and Ghost had suffered. That in turn had triggered a bad night for Eris, remembering Brya, how brave her Ghost had been…

“We may have finally curbed them.” Selene’s voice jars Eris out of her thoughts. The Hunter turns her full attention to the Guardian, seeing the traces of Darkness that linger about her aura, the hidden blaze of Light that is Ozy inside her.

“The Vex?”

“Yes.” Selene sets down her gun, lifting her hands to remove her helm. Auburn hair spills free from the bun she keeps it in, being dislodged by the plasteel’s removal. The Guardian sets the helm down on a crate, then turns towards the table where the Artifact awaits. There is no missing the apprehension on her features. Her skin is pale, and dark shadows are under her eyes. Her Light still burns bright-but it’s dim, has been growing dimmer over the past two months. 

“You should take a moment.” The words flee Eris’ tongue without thinking. Selene stops, and just gives her a look of surprise. 

“What?”

“You look like you’ve been dragged out of the crypt and through the wilds with nothing but the clothes on your back.” In for a penny, in for a pound, Eris judges. Selene is vital, important—and if she is weak, the Darkness will certainly attack again. 

“Surely you can take a minute or two to catch yourself. You need all your wits.” Eris watches a faint smile curve Selene’s lips-displacing the look of exhaustion for just a few brief moments.

“Thank you. But...” Selene looks at the Artifact. Eris watches the expression on the younger woman’s face change. It’s the look of Selene the Guardian-inscrutable and silent, an almost perfect match for the Old Russian in her voice.

“It’s best to get this over and done with.” With those words Selene strides forward, stopping before the table. She reaches out with one gloved hand-there’s a moment of hesitation—before she places it on the Artifact. Eris holds her breath, waiting for that haunting, too-calm, too-steady, _too-perfect_ voice to fill the air…

But nothing. Selene blinks-and glances at Eris, who frowns. Then the Warlock turns her attention back to the Artifact, putting one gloved hand on it again. Still nothing.

**_<Maybe it’s broken_**.> Ozy transmits. The hope in his voice is almost painful to hear—and Eris can all but feel a repressed flare of relief from Selene-before the younger woman squashes it.

“No, it can’t be broken.” She says. Picking up the Artifact, she turns it over. In the light it gleams, looking all like a miniature Traveler. Selene frowns-feeling Ozy’s discomfort at that comparison—she doesn’t like it either. The surface of the Artifact gleams again-and suddenly Selene feels the hair on the back of her neck stand up. Now her senses are screaming danger, and the Warlock makes to put the orb down just as Ozy starts to shriek his own warnings-but—

“Guardian!” Eris cries. Selene has gone ramrod stiff holding the Artifact, her eyes locked onto its surface. She is still breathing, still alive-but Eris feels a presence suddenly loom up like a wave-crashing onto the other woman and her Ghost psychically, pulling them away—

“Guardian!!”

One moment she was with Eris in the chamber, standing at the table. The next she was back in the Black Garden, in an all too sickeningly familiar amphitheater. Selene gasped-inhaling a deep lungful of air, clutching at her chest.

“Ozy!” She shrieked.

**_<I’mhereI’mhereI’mhere!>_** Selene’s knees threatened to give way from relief—feeling the sharp burn of Ozy’s Light within her. He was there, he was safe, they were safe-- Not caring for appearances Selene let herself collapse, closing her eyes in relief. In response Ozy flared again in their neural net, burrowing as close as he could to her very core. Wanting to sob, Selene opened her eyes. She couldn’t cry, she couldn’t remain where she was-she had to get up, they had to get up…

**_<Selene.>_** Ozy whispered**. _<This place…>_** Selene sucked in another breath, struggling to regain her composure.

“We’re back in the Black Garden.” She said. “Where we killed the Black Heart.” 

**_<Did…did we get teleported here?>_** Ozy asked. Selene frowned, looking down at herself. 

“I…I’m not too sure.” She said, starting to pat herself over. Her clothing felt normal, so did her body—so did her bond with Ozy… 

“Your shoemaker philosopher was right, and it matters more than anything.” Selene’s head snapped up at the sound of **_that _**voice, Ozy muffling a cry of fear inside their neural net.

“Sorrow cannot survive death, and it cannot precede birth. Those who exist have moral worth, and those who do not have none.” The words seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere, and Selene spun around, trying to track down the source of the voice. In vain her hand reached to the small of her back-but she was weaponless. 

**_<Selene…>_** Ozy whispered. Fear was coming from his half of their bond.

“Think about it.” The voice continued. “Do you mourn the uncreated? Do you grieve for those who were never born in a nation that never developed around an ideology no one ever imagined on a continent that never formed? No!” Now the voice was coming from one direction—off to her left. Selene spun about-fingers curling into fists. Some feet away, a haze-a heat shimmer? -something, was walking towards her. 

“And from that self-evident truth, you must raise your eyes to the ultimate revelation: those who cannot sustain their own claim to existence belong to the same moral category as those who have never existed at all.” The shimmer gets closer, solidifying…and suddenly it’s as if Selene’s back in the Pyramid. That **_voice_**, the overwhelming oppressive feeling of Darkness, feeling unclean, unclean, no shower, no purification ritual, no amount of Light—

Selene wanted to run. She wanted to scream. She wanted to fight. But she was unable to move, rooted where she was by sheer terror. Ozy was the same-his emotions feeding, bleeding into hers, it’s not just her alone, they’re both scared, confused, memories of an ice-cold knife returning, pressing against the very unnamable, unknowable _Thing_ that makes them one soul in two bodies–

“Existence is the first and truest proof of the right to exist. Those who cannot claim and hold existence do not deserve it. This is the true and only divination, a game whose losers are not just forgotten but are never born at all.” 

Her doppleganger-no, the **_Darkness_**, that thing’s not her, _it’s not her it’snother**ITSNOTHER**_– smiles, flexing the fingers of their right hand. For a mercy it’s not a perfect replica of her-it’s still wearing the Dreambane Armor Eris had crafted for her back on the Moon all those months ago, and Selene is in her preferred robes, from the Prodigal series–but now she’s just nitpicking-no, they’re nitpicking–

“That which cannot claim and hold existence is not real.” Doppelganger Selene gestures, and begins to circle the other woman. The skirts of the Dreambane robe rustle as she all but glides around the Guardian. Almost automatically Selene starts to turn, following like a moon circling its planet. She watches the Darkness smile-something coy, with the hint of barely shown teeth.

“You do not mourn the unreal. Why should you care for it? Tend it? Guard it?” Now the Darkness moves closer, resting a hand on Selene’s cheek. The skin is soft as silk, its hue standing out against the paleness of the Guardian’s skin. Her doppelganger’s voice has dropped to a low whisper of sound, but somehow Guardian and Ghost can still hear it.

“It was the gardener that chose you from the dead.” Pink lips curled into a disdainful smirk. “I wouldn’t have done that. It’s just not in me. But now that they have invested themself in you, you are incredibly, uniquely special.” Before Selene could blink, she found herself staring at empty air. An arm suddenly encircled her waist before crushing her into the mishmash of materials that was the Dreambane robes, with vague hints of the female form that lurked beneath it. Selene and Ozy’s panic spiked. Before the Guardian could scream, a slender lip suddenly placed itself on her lips, as a head of auburn hair leaned towards her right ear.

“That wandering refugee chose to make a stand, spend their power to say: “Here I prove myself right. Here I wager that, given power over physics and the trust of absolute freedom, people will choose to build and protect a gentle kingdom ringed in spears. And not fall to temptation. And not surrender to division. And never yield to the cynicism that says, everyone else is so good that I can afford to be a little evil.” Disdain drips from every word that leaves the doppelganger’s mouth, so much so that Selene swears she can feel it in the air, a thick substance on her skin.

“The gardener is all in. They are playing for keeps. And they are wrong. Or so I argue: for, after all, the universe is undecidable. There is no destiny. We’re all making this up as we go along. Neither the gardener nor I know for certain that we’re eternally, universally right. But we can be nothing except what we are.” Now the doppelganger’s breath is hot on the skin of her ear, voice dropping into a sultry purr.

“You have a choice.” Suddenly Selene found herself lying on the floor-muscles still paralyzed, unable to move. Her doppelganger straddles her, a seductive smirk on her lips before she bends over. Again a slender finger rests on Selene’s face, tracing the contours of it slowly…softly, lovingly.

“You are the gardener’s final argument.” Arc blue eyes-but there’s malice and death behind them–met their fearful counterparts. “It would mean everything if I could convince you that I am the right and only way.” Now Selene’s face is taken in-between two hands, and the Darkness rests her forehead against the Guardian’s own, hair spilling over them like a gossamer curtain.

“I am, by the only standard that matters or will ever matter, the winning team. Existence is a test that most will fail. Would you not count yourself among the victorious few?” A smile-oh Light, Traveler-it’s going to haunt Selene’s dreams-there is death, there’s pain, there’s torture, hate, lust-every single dark, unnameable, unthinkable thing is in that smile, in the gleam of white teeth, the glitter of blue eyes. Those lips are a scant millimetre just above her own, almost as if the Darkness wanted to steal a kiss.

“Don’t hurry to deliver your answer.” 

Lustful desire covered the words, akin to candy coating covering poison.

“I’ll come over and hear it myself.”


	11. Trust and Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A letter comes for the Guardian, from Eris.

Her words to Eris had come true. The Garden of Salvation had finally gone silent, as had that damnable Artifact. The Pyramid was still present, but for the moment…the Hive were broken, the Vex subdued. Luna could be bumped down on the list of priorities. 

Selene wished that her mind could go silent. Again, she was off duty. Again, she and Ozy were undergoing purification, to get rid of the Darkness-taint that lingered on them. And again, the Warlock found herself struggling with nightmares and bad memories…

\---------

“Special delivery for you, ma’am.” 

The messenger boy tugged at his hat as Selene signed on his tablet. With a gap-toothed grin he held out his offering, an oversized envelope. Selene accepted it, giving the tablet back—and a sizable tip. She watched as the child turned on a heel, running down the hallway. Shutting the door, she turned to walk over to her couch. Ozy was snuggled up in a nest of her clean clothes on one of the cushions. 

“What’s that?” He asked.

“I don’t know.” Selene answered, sitting down. She turned the envelope over in her hands. Paper materials weren’t technically uncommon, but the preferred medium was still digital transmissions or even use of plastik papyrus—thin, flexible sized paper pieces that served as the replacement for actual paper itself. Ozy wriggled out of his nest some more, feeling his Risen’s curiosity spark.

“Does it have an address?”

“No.” Frowning, Selene ripped the tab off the envelope. Her senses flared to life—Hive magic that oddly felt…benign in a way. 

_Eris?_ Inside the larger envelope were two folded strips of Hive leather. As Selene lifted them up and unfolded them, Ozy came up to float over her right shoulder.

“What’s this?” Selene didn’t immediately answer, her eyes roaming over the letters cut into the tough skin. 

“A letter.” She breathed.

_Friend,_

_Over the past five years, we Lightbearers—you Lightbearers—have grown strong. Each victory opens more territory for searching Ghosts, and more Guardians rise. None of these newborn contenders are mighty without equal—but you have been at the forefront, again and again. To see you fall would be disastrous. And there are so many ways to fall…_

_It has become fashionable, lately, to analyze Light and Darkness as if they were political opponents, each with something to offer us. Some Guardians even take secret names to mark their transgressions. I despise this flirtation. But I cannot speak against it; after all, I have had to find my own pathways to power. Thus, I asked my Queen, who has preached a doctrine of balance, if she truly believed in the equal worth of Light and Dark._

Selene arched an eyebrow. Ozy buzzed—abit rudely- at the mention of Mara Sov. 

_The Awoken were made in conflict, she reminded me. All her people volunteered to return from heaven to fight and die in the cosmic war. They are by nature and by doom drawn to that edge, that place of tension. And she has her own prejudices: she has made terrible, ruthless choices in the name of salvation from Darkness, so she cannot dismiss its power without in a way dismissing herself._

_All that said, she told me, "I believe in balance. But to seek balance is not to seek equity. A sea half of water and half of poison is not in balance. A body half alive and half dead is not in balance. Given the choice to live in any world, any world at all… we would need a little Darkness in it, I think, to keep the balance true. But not so much as we would need the Light…_

_"What do you think, Eris Morn? When you went into that pit, your Light against the clawing Darkness, did you feel balance?"_

_No. I did not. I felt overwhelming, all-consuming evil._

“She put it into words.” Ozy whispered. Selene silently nodded, unable to reply. Overwhelming, all-consuming evil described what she’d felt when she was in the Pyramid of Luna…and when she’d gazed into the Arc-blue eyes of her doppelganger.

_I think a world of balance would fight the Darkness, because Darkness unchecked is Darkness thriving. I think that a world of balance would never mistake the excitement of transgression or the grim necessity of trespass for a genuinely righteous act. We must remember the value of unshakable, irrational hope. The choice to act as if we lived in a better world can create a place for that better world to exist._

_I do not think that a good Guardian can even for a moment entertain the Darkness. This is a power that has devoured worlds beyond knowing! A power that has practiced its appeals against entire zettalives! There is no defense against it except to avoid the battle entirely._

_It is a sign of self-respect, Eriana always said, to fearlessly question our deepest beliefs. But it will always be rank foolishness to leap into a vat of plutonium salt and call it self-exploration._

_And to tempt your friends into that vat with you… that is evil._

_Thank you for being so worthy of trust. Thank you for carrying my hope._

_—Eris_

“Eris.” Selene murmured. The older woman had never spoken to her in such a manner—even after the Warlock and her fireteam had defeated Crota and Oryx. With a sigh Selene leaned back against the couch’s cushions, looking up at the ceiling. Ozy floated into her range of vision-making sure to stay clear of the inscribed Hive leather.

“I think…she’s trying to help you feel better.” He buzzed.

“And warn me.” Selene murmured. Her gaze flicked to a sealed footlocker off to the side. Inside, letters-and weapons, wrapped in her old robes. The Last Word. Her own Thorn. Malfeasance, and Lumina. A possible incarnation of the pre-Golden Age Eastern belief of ying and yang…

_All of my faith says you will be a linchpin in the building of a new world, one where absolutes cower to the might of compromise, where Light tempers dark and the dark opens new insight into the Light's many undiscovered gifts._

Inhaling, Selene pushed herself up. Going over to the locker, she punched in the code as Ozy watched. Opening the lid, she paused to fold the Hive leather before placing it inside the locker. Shutting the lid securely, Selene typed the code back in to seal the box before rocking back on her heels. Ozy then floated over to her, letting himself rest in the crook of her neck.

“Are you alright?” He asked. His little blue eye took in Selene’s profile-still beloved, still precious. His Risen closed her eyes. Her fingers curled on the lid of the locker.

“Not completely.” She answered, voice soft. “But I’m well enough to do what has to be done.” Her eyes opened, and Ozy buzzed in agreement.

“We can do it.” He whispered. “You can do it.” Selene didn’t answer, tilting her head so that she could feel the press of the Ghost’s cardinal points against her cheek. For several brief moments, her mind was finally quiet. She could bathe in the steady burn that was Ozy’s own Light, let herself be tangled up in the psychic ribbons and ties that was their bond. 

** _Pain is something that never truly goes away. It is something you live with, hoping it makes you stronger as you learn to cope. You cannot bury it, nor hide from it. There is power in acknowledging it._ **

** _That is how we will win. Despair not; our purpose is good and true._ **

** _I will not be weighed down in the dark by my past, my mistakes, or my trauma. Instead, I will use them, and they will lift me up, into the Light._ **


End file.
